A few minor adjustments..

This first week and a half in site has been pretty calm and uneventful, although that’s not to say it’s not noisy. I’ve found that the noise principle is taken to new heights in my new site, if it were even possible. For example, some loud noises that would normally scare us, being the hyper-conscious, terrorist fearing Americans that we are, such as [questionably] personal fireworks, are set off at the beginning, middle and end of every mass at the Catholic Church I attended on Sunday. They hold three services every day.

Aside from acclimating to the noise, I’ve also found that my entire town has a very distinct smell; Corn. The shrimp sequence from Forrest Gump comes to mind: corn being harvested, sun drying corn, roasting corn, corn being milled into mash, corn being boiled, corn being grilled, mash being made into tortillas (black, white and yellow varieties each have a distinct smell), even corn cobs being burned to fuel the fires over which the majority of people cook in their kitchens.

Running through the town several times a week has not only allowed me to classify each of the distinct corn smells, it’s also allowed me to get to know the gente (people) better. Most of the time I don’t realize I’m stocking up on future conversations when I run, because I’m used to zoning out when I run in order to pass the time, and like I said before, decompress. But here, I have to stay alert: I must never be too out of breath to offer a “Buenos días” to anyone I pass. No exceptions.

Regardless if I see someone on my path or not, they usually know if I ran that day, which is to be expected in any close-knit small town. Monday, I walked into Kaqchikel class around 8:30 after an early morning run and my teacher greeted me with “Good morning! My brother saw you running this morning.”

Along the same gossip lines, my Kaqchikel class whispers to me that my host mother’s husband is her second, and my host mother whispers to me that my Kaqchikel teacher is a single mother and no one knows who the father is, with a cautionary finger to her mouth. Somehow I’ve already been drawn in to the vicious gossip circle, solely by being conspicuously white. But now I’m the first one doing the math when I see a recently wed couple with a newborn. From what I gather, shotgun weddings are quite common.

Until next time..